Chapter 1

So my dad bought a lot of fruits today And while eating...I neglected something else that I was writing, to start some nonsense on fruits. *don't ask*

And the end result was this.

I'm obsessed with Prem-Chahat...father-daughter bonds are so cute

Special thanks to Meera for proofing and all the encouragement! ANDD the title!

*posted in Kis Desh already, posting here for those that wanted to read more but don't visit that forum :]

Apples

           Pulling into the driveway, Prem swiftly parked the car and jumped out, grabbing a huge shopping bag in one hand while weighing bags of grocery in the other.

 

            He trudged up the stairs, raising his hand to pull out the keys just to realize that both hands were full of bags.

 

Groaning, he placed all the bags down and fished for the keys, finally finding them below the chocolate bars and change.

 

Triumphantly pulling it out, he quietly opened the door, wincing as he picked up the heavy grocery bags and walked in, making sure to close the door just as quietly as he'd opened it behind him.

 

            Before striding into the kitchen, he threw furtive glances around the house, making sure no one had witnessed his arrival.

 

            Once he'd confirmed that the coast was clear, he began unpacking the groceries, throwing all the bags away from him as he pulled out the colorful fruits.

 

            Mangoes, cantaloupe, watermelon, grapes, granny apples, golden apples, pears, peaches, strawberries, blueberries…one by one he unpacked the countless fruits he'd bought.

 

            He sighed as he stared at the fruity mess in front of him. Now what? He stared at the huge watermelon; half hoping it would speak up and beg for forgiveness, maybe even shy away from the knife…ugh, anything but cutting fruits.

 

            Mentally slashing out fruit salad from the list, he moved his imaginary black sharpie down to the rest of it, which was all actually a big question mark. A decorative fruit basket? Meh, that's so…picnic-y.

 

            As he heard the slight shuffling outside, his senses became alert. She should've been taking a nap.

 

            "Mama?" came the sleepy voice.

 

            Prem frantically moved around, gathering the bags he'd carelessly thrown on the floor, quietly scuffling through the kitchen as he tried hiding the fruits.

 

            "Aap kitchen main ho?" Chahat continued, rubbing her eyes as she walked in with her bunny flip flops slapping against the hardwood floor.

 

            Pushing aside the final batch of fruits, Prem turned his back to the fridge and gave his daughter a tight smile.

 

            "Papa?" Eyes wide, Chahat pinched herself to make sure she wasn't dreaming. Her work-a-holic dad, the Prem Juneja, was at home this early on a weekday?

 

            "Ouch" she muttered, rubbing at the redness that appeared on her arm after the pinch.

 

            "Kya hua?" Prem asked, worriedly moving forward.

            "Wohh…" Chahat didn't get a chance to reply for as soon as Prem stepped away from the overstuffed refrigerator its door burst open, its contents bursting out.

 

            "Shi--" Stopping himself just in time, Prem turned to Chahat just to see her eyes widening at the expected swear word. "Sh-Shilpa! Uss Shilpa ne fridge ko bhar diya hoga…"

 

            "Shilpa kaun?" his little daughter asked slowly, slowly pulling herself up to a stool.  

 

            Her father stepped forward to raise her up to the tall chair, avoiding her eyes as he answered. "Shilpa wohh, umm, kaam karna waali?"

 

            Chahat giggled, lightly slapping her palm on the marble island in front of her. "Shilpa nahin, unka naam Geet hai" She gently pushed Prem away as she scanned the spilled contents in front of the fridge.

 

            "Itne saare fruits?" Her lips formed an 'O' and her eyes lit up as she appraised them. "Yeh kiske liye hain?"

 

            Prem's disappointment was buried underneath the joy he got from seeing the huge grin on her face. "Mere liye aur kiske liye!"

 

            Of course, just as soon as the words were out he regretted them, for Chahat's grin turned into a frown faster than Prem could mutter an uh-oh.

 

            "Okay..." She cradled her face with her hands, staring at her reflection on the marble.

 

            Sighing, Prem slowly moved forward and took one of her tiny hands in his own, gently caressing her face with the back of his other hand. "Mazaak kar raha tha, yeh sab tumhare liye hai!"

 

            Chahat just looked away, still upset. "Nahin, mujhe nahin chaiye, aap kha lo"

 

            Ah, the ever-stubborn daughter of Prem Juneja. Shaking his head, Prem slowly let go and moved back, searching his mind for an idea to cheer her up.

 

            His eyes fell to the untouched grapes he'd left on the counter, then to the apples in the fridge. Hmm, maybe…

 

            Grabbing a knife, he meticulously began to slice the green apple he'd picked out, grinning to himself at the idea he'd had.

 

            But the shrill ringing of the kitchen phone startled him, causing him to cut himself with the knife. "Ahh!" he screamed, sucking at his finger.

 

            "Kya hua?" Chahat asked, jumping from the chair and rushing forward.

 

            Wincing, Prem kept his eyes closed as he shook his head, pitying his gentle finger. "Kuch nahin"

 

            Sighing, Chahat moved forward and pushed him towards a stool, tugging at his arm till he moved it down to her level, letting her examine the cut "Tsk tsk tsk"

 

            Prem watched her gently put his arm down, and then run off. She came sprinting back in a few minutes, a first-aid kit in hand. He eyed her with admiration, watching her slowly open the box and pull out a swab of cotton, biting her lip as she patted the cut.

 

            She slowly blew on it before placing a Hannah Montana band-aid on it. Oblivious to the absurd character on his finger, Prem lazily smiled at his daughter as she continued to stroke at his finger.

 

            Looking up at her father, Chahat asked, "Dard ho raha hai?"

 

            "Nahin, ab nahin ho raha" Prem replied, still smiling at her.

 

            Suddenly recalling her earlier anger, Chahat moved away, eyeing the wall. She heard the screeching of the stool as Prem jumped off, going back to cutting his apple.

 

            Intrigued, Chahat moved forward, watching from underneath the crook of Prem's arm.

 

            Her mouth curved up in a smile as she watched him place the apple slices and grapes together to form a big smiley face.

 

            Prem turned around and tugged at his ears, pouting as he mouthed Sorry?

 

            Flipping her ponytail, Chahat gave him a thousand-watt smile. "Chahat ne Papa ko maaf kiya"

 

            "Great!" Prem enthusiastically picked her up, twirling her around. "God, tum heavy hogayi ho"

 

            Chahat narrowed her eyes at him, but Prem was quick to pull out the chocolate bars. "Sorry Baba…especially isliye kay main aaj kal office main bohot busy rehta hoon…aur wohh kal apple…Papa ko nahin pata tha kay Chahat ko apples acchey lagte hain, warna Papa wohh last apple nahin khaatey"

 

            "It's okay" She snuggled into him as he pulled out the bag of apples. "Chahat aap say apple kay liye naraz nahin thi. Par thank you Papa! You're the best!" With that, she kissed him on his cheek, bringing an identical thousand-watt smile on her father's face. Ah, fatherhood is a blessing.

**

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